


In Plain Sight

by arcapelago (arcanewinter)



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-02
Updated: 2011-07-02
Packaged: 2017-10-23 09:23:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/248742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcanewinter/pseuds/arcapelago
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story where Charles and Erik have basically been together from the first time they met. The whole fate, wow we found each other thing. Now I would like the others not to know and try to bring the two 'oblivious' guys together. They of course enjoy this quite a lot (1stclass-kink request.).</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Plain Sight

There was something about meeting people when they were halfway toward drowning themselves in the desperate attempt to exact revenge that made sex the logical next step.

Charles couldn't be sure, exactly, what that was, but it was something. And he was thankful for it.

That first time, it was just an alternative. Either Erik vented his incredible amount of frustration doing something destructive, or he vented it doing something English with a charming voice and an equally incredible capacity for empathy. At the time, Charles had used it as a way of grounding the man, keeping him close long enough to talk to him, long enough to know him, while rendering them both a service they very much required. He wasn't surprised when Erik almost immediately left, taking with him the file he'd come there for, but at least Charles had postponed it, at least Charles had given him more than just his word that indeed, Erik was not alone, and Erik didn't have to _be_ alone.

Neither had been entirely familiar with the act minus a female, but while Charles wasn't particularly well-versed, Erik hadn't been particularly . . . particular. Erik was rough, direct, and efficient, and Charles just had to be accommodating.

It was rather an uncomfortable accommodation to make at first, but by the end of it they were both as satisfied as their present life circumstances could allow.

And then when Erik had honestly surprised Charles by coming back, and with a demand for partnership to boot, it was different, and a little more different every time they got near each other, which was soon at every opportunity. Erik was no less vengeful, no less damaged, but his actions were kinder. Charles was not the alternative, Charles was the ideal, Charles was the decision he'd made.

The only problem was, it had all happened so fast that none of the others knew, and telling them had quickly surpassed the point at which Charles could safely rule out the risk of shock-induced tachycardia.

At least, that was the way he envisioned it. His first indication that he was mistaken would have come from Raven one night (as he would later put together) if she hadn't been interrupted. Raven would never know how close she came to reading his mind sometimes.

That night, Charles had made them both some tea after that hard day's work. It had been just the two of them for so long, and now there seemed to be mutants everywhere, vying for his time and attention and living, for the moment, in the house he and Raven grew up in together. They'd raised each other, each in their own way. Charles didn't want to lose sight of that. Nor did he want Raven to think he had.

"Oh, it's just you," she had said when she opened the door to her room, and Charles had a hard time telling if she was joking. He glanced behind him as he stepped inside. _Was_ she waiting for someone else?

But she did seem to appreciate his presence as she took her cup from him, leading them to sit in the two chairs in front of the fireplace. "This week's been exhausting," she drolled, gathering her legs up under her, looking small in her robe. She took a sip of the tea as she glanced at him. "You could probably stand to lift a few weights, too, brainiac. What've _you_ been doing?"

He smiled into his tea, shaking his head with nostalgia. "I thank you for your staunch support, as always. I do more than just think all the time, you know."

She smirked. "Okay, but mostly--"

"Mostly I just think," he agreed, pursing his lips and nodding with defeat. He sipped from his cup as he considered reminding her that thinking, for him, could be just as exhausting as physical exertion when she spoke again.

"About Moira?"

He almost spit out his tea. With care, he swallowed it. "Moira? No. No, no."

She looked strangely relieved, relaxing into her seat. And pensive. Oddly pensive.

"Why?" asked his ego, reminded of the way Raven always sabotaged his pub wooing. "Moira's a lovely girl. I'm sure she'd--"

"Yeah, I'll bet," assured Raven dubiously. "Anyway, that's not it." She bit her lip, weighing her statement. "It's more Erik I'm worried about."

Charles scoffed. "Erik?" Erik didn't like Moira--or at least, Charles would be very surprised if he did. Quite surprised. "What's to worry about with Erik?"

"That!" she said, as animatedly as she could with a teacup on her finger. "That you have no idea!"

"Raven," he sighed. " _What_ are you talking about?" He couldn't craft his carefully worded answer about how Erik wasn't going to break Moira's heart if he didn't know exactly what angle she was taking.

She sat frowning at him, shaking her head like she couldn't comprehend exactly how a person could be so dense. "Charles, I think Erik--"

A soft rapping at her door neatly interrupted her.

Raven stiffened, and it didn't require any sort of prying for Charles to know who was on the other side of the door. "Is that Hank?" he mouthed at her, a mixture of mock astonishment and brotherly concern on his face.

"Get out, get out!" she whispered urgently, taking his tea and pulling him off the chair.

Bemused, he mimed his confusion. Where could he possibly go?

"Just a minute!" she called to the door as she pointed Charles to the small window in the bathroom attached to her room and shoved him in its direction. "We'll talk later," she hissed, and he watched her hide the teacups with the most delicate of clinking.

That was the only delicate thing about her at the moment, though, as the look that she gave him while he stood idle told him no punishment was out of bounds.

He lifted his hands in surrender, obediently retreating to the bathroom and "easing" himself out of the narrow casement window after she'd shut the door between them.

By the time he was on the other side, fairly wheezing and with his shirt ripped in three places, he remembered to be grateful that Raven's room was on the ground floor, and also that he'd still been dressed despite the evening hour. He doubted she would have made concessions were either of those things not true.

He also belatedly agreed that, yes, he could stand to build some upper body strength.

* * * * *

As she'd promised, Raven did talk later, but it wasn't to Charles, or to Erik, for that matter.

They'd been standing around a large table they'd cleared the vases from for what could have been hours, trying to work out the combat strategies that took the best advantage of different combinations of their abilities. This was Erik's forte, so Charles mostly let him sort it out, interjecting only to point out less-violent alternatives where possible. Unfortunately, he wasn't always able to do so.

He hadn't noticed the small audience that had gathered in the doorway. He also didn't notice just how closely he and Erik were standing.

"We've been thinking," started Raven, and from the tone of her voice Charles was afraid that this was about to be a repeat of her ill-timed announcement of what their nicknames should be (Magneto was a ridiculous name and he'd never call him that). But at least this time there was nothing on fire and the windows hadn't shattered, or maybe he just hadn't found the damage yet. He only read the minds of friends when he needed to, save for Raven's; would this be one of those times?

"We've been thinking," she started again, now that she'd gotten their attention, "that you two have been working so hard to help us train this week, on top of . . . whatever else you do, that we should do something in return."

"Oh?" Charles straightened from the table, realizing just how sore his back was. "That's . . . kind of you." He noticed they were all looking at him rather than Erik, and that was probably because Erik was frightening and pushed them off of ledges. Really, he was surprised they had extended this gesture to him at all, or maybe they hadn't meant to and were just worried what would happen to them if Erik was left out.

"Come on," Raven beckoned. Behind her, Sean, Alex, and Hank looked pleased. "We'll show you."

When Charles saw the dining room, he was seriously impressed that Raven had kept a straight face during her invitation.

At one corner of the long table were two place settings, complete with champagne flutes, and within reach of them were several little platters of food. Again, just enough for two people. And there were candles. Lit candles. He hoped Alex didn't do that.

"Moira helped us with the cooking," Sean confessed. "Hank wanted to try out a few things but we said No."

"Cooking is a science," mumbled Hank, and Sean clapped him comfortingly on the shoulder, saying gently: "But not that kind of science."

Charles laughed lightly, glancing to Erik, who was still stony. "This is . . . This is really very thoughtful of you. And not a moment too soon. I'm starving. Thank you for this. Erik?"

Charles had taken a step toward the table, figuring the most awkward thing they could do would be to refuse the meal, but Erik was still standing there, tall and, frankly, a little menacing.

"Erik?"

"Why are there candles?" Erik asked them, sounding like one of Charles' headmasters from college, and Charles' heart went out to them in the silence. They looked between each other, clearly trying to work out the response with the vaguest rendition of honesty.

Trust Alex to come to their rescue. He nudged the others aside to make way as he came forward, settling with his arms folded in front of Erik.

"We think you two should hook up."

"Alex!" Raven had hit him on the shoulder for ruining her plan while Hank and Sean merely looked embarrassed. Charles stood with wide eyes and a cocked brow, mentally running through several different versions of his extended reaction, ranging from affirmation to denial and all the nuances in between.

The world would never know the outcome, however, because Erik _would not stop laughing_.

"Why is that so funny?" Charles frowned.

"Because," wheezed Erik, "I've never heard something so ridiculous."

Charles tried to remain impartial. _If you overdo it,_ he pushed at him, _it'll backfire._ He turned to address their trainees.

"You were all thinking this?"

Sheepishly, they nodded. Erik's laughter, which hadn't entirely died out, had ridiculed them.

Charles sighed. "Look, I understand how you might get that impression, but Erik and I . . . we're like brothers."

 _That's kinky, Charles._

 _Hush now, I'm talking._

"And as you can see," Charles continued, meeting each of their gazes one after the other, "Erik thinks it's hilarious and quite frankly, that hurts my feelings, so let's not bring this up again."

They each nodded, even Alex, begrudgingly. Raven looked disappointed, and that she wanted to say more, but she turned with the rest and filed out.

"We're still going to eat this!" Erik called after them from the table where he'd sat without further scruple. Charles dutifully echoed his sentiments with a "Yes, thank you!"

He really was hungry.

* * * * *

The meal was actually quite nicely done, though they'd made swift work of it, being, of course, spied upon. They had made the mistake of holding the bulk of their conversation mentally, where they could get away with anything, and unfortunately did. By the time they'd finished eating (and drinking, no use wasting the champagne), Charles could hardly think straight. He would go up first, Erik to follow when it was safe.

It really would have been more prudent to forego seeing each other tonight, but thanks to their clever mental priming, that was not an option.

Able to pinpoint, roughly, where each of the others was located, Charles easily navigated the large house to avoid them. He reached the remote second floor hallway without confrontation and slipped inside his room to wait for Erik, sending him a visual schematic of how he'd got there.

He was starting to get worried some quarter of an hour later when he felt Erik's presence, finally, but at the window.

"Erik!" He rushed to the window to open it for him, reaching to grab hold of him though clearly Erik had it under control. "What in God's name are you doing?"

"I couldn't lose them. They'd know I was coming here," explained Erik, slipping in through the window with a modicum of Charles' help. "I had to."

"You could have got yourself killed," admonished Charles, brushing the grit from Erik's clothes though he wouldn't be wearing them for long. "What if you'd fallen?"

"I have abilities too, you know," answered Erik, amused.

"What were you going to do, call up a bed of anvils to cushion your fall?"

But Erik wasn't listening. Instead, he had noticed the room behind Charles. "Did they do this?" He laughed.

Charles glanced behind him at the rose petals on the bed with a sigh of confirmation and lament for the rose garden. "This is what we're working with."

"I'm almost tempted to use the bed this time," said Erik. He pulled off his top in one neat movement, tossing it to the floor.

The shock of meeting Erik on the outside of the building rather than the inside was starting to diminish, leaving Charles to focus instead on Erik's chest and the taut, hardened slope that funneled his gaze down to the shadow just above the belt that was next to go.

"Well," said Charles, "let's compromise." He stepped over to the bed and scooped up a handful of petals, then scattered them over the gargantuan leather couch. (The bed, under duress, was altogether too noisy for their purposes.)

"No wonder they gave you your doctorate," championed Erik. He reached to take Charles' hand, then pressed its palm to his bare stomach. His other hand slipped into Charles' hair to draw him nearer.

"Mm, yes," agreed Charles against his mouth. Charles slid his palm downward, past the shadow and into the pitch dark. "It should be obvious now."

* * *

They were deep into interpersonal relations when Charles sensed the approach of Hank and Raven still several doors away.

Charles yanked his head up from the arm of the couch so fast he nearly sprained his neck. He reached back to hit Erik on the hip. _Keep still,_ he thought, frantically. _Someone's coming._

 _Tell them you're not decent,_ answered Erik, and Charles felt his breath on the back of his neck. He wasn't exactly still, but he had slowed down. _Because you're definitely not._

 _Raven knows I would never turn her away,_ Charles reasoned swiftly. _Just keep quiet. They'll assume I'm not here._

He heard them speaking, now, with a little aid from Hank's mind.

"We need to apologize," Raven was saying. "I can't go to bed until we do. And I can't believe you put those on the bed anyway!" She was angry. Hank said nothing. That was wise.

She rapped on the door, and Charles held his breath, counting the seconds until she knocked again and called his name. He slowly exhaled as another few seconds passed.

And then:

"He's not there. Quick, clean off the bed."

 _Shit!_

Charles' mind flew out to them as the knob turned, and he somehow twisted himself to slap his hand over Erik's mouth at the same time. He would have persuaded Hank to change his mind without a second's hesitation, but Raven--he couldn't do that to Raven. What he could do was keep her from seeing them.

At least, he hoped so.

It was Hank who moved furthest into the room, hurriedly collecting the petals from the bed as ordered. Raven only came in a few steps, her arms folded as she glanced around nervously, listening for someone who was already there.

 _Now would be an excellent time to tell them,_ thought Erik, and Charles realized that sensation was the tip of Erik's tongue making circles in the palm of his hand.

 _Now isn't an excellent time for anything will you stop. That._

Erik did stop, but it wasn't because Charles told him to. Instead, Raven had furrowed her brow suddenly and was stepping in their direction.

 _Don't move, don't move, don't move,_ chanted Charles. What had he forgotten? What was she seeing out of place? How loud was she going to shriek when she suddenly figured out her brother was stark naked on the couch with his new best friend neatly tucked up his ass?

But her eyes were focused a little lower than anything Charles felt was interesting. She bent down to pick up a rose petal from the floor next to the couch, and though she was close enough for Charles to feel the movement of the air she displaced, she turned again and headed for the door without an undue glance.

They were still well within the room when Erik started pressing his hips forward again, not enough to make noise, but enough to make trouble.

 _Erik--_ Charles struggled to ignore him as Hank made one final, lingering inspection of the bed.

Charles was fairly shaking with the effort when Erik gripped him amorously between the legs. He shuddered, and a drop of sweat fell to the leather sofa.

 _Erik, I swear to God I will give you amnesia._

But there was no need of that, this time. Without incident, Hank and Raven slipped out, with Raven shutting off the lights before she closed the door. Charles froze.

"You could have remembered to turn the lights off when you left earlier," he heard Raven chide as they retreated, and Hank responded with a feeble, "I thought I had!"

Oh, God. The lights. It could have tipped her off. It was infinitely harder to fool a suspicious mind.

Charles slumped weakly with relief and exhaustion, separating them for the moment. "I never want to do that again," he groaned into his forearm. "We have to tell them."

Erik threaded his arm beneath him and turned Charles to his back. Propped up on his elbows, Erik settled over him, knees still between Charles' knees lest he forget what they were up to and what he still meant to finish.

"But let's see what we can get away with, first, shall we?" Erik smiled down at him, and something about being in Erik's confidence made Charles want to conspire with him forever, if he could help it.

"Deal," said Charles, and he pulled Erik down to him to seal it.

* * * * *

Over the next three days, Erik and Charles stopped monitoring how close they were standing and how often they looked at each other and with what expressions. But they didn't stop there.

Thanks to Charles, their timing was perfect every time, and no innocuous display of strong Platonic male affection went unnoticed. Outside on the grass one afternoon while Charles made notes, Erik had dozed off with his head in Charles' lap just as Alex jogged by. "Keep it up!" Charles called to him encouragingly, then pretended to wince when Alex, glancing toward his voice, immediately tripped on the gravel at what he saw.

At dinnertime, Charles sat with Erik to plot some locations closer to home without the boost of the long lost Cerebro. With one hand directing the pen and the other busy directing his thoughts, he was left with no opportunity to feed himself. Luckily, Erik was willing to help him out in the spirit of mere necessity, and in the spirit of not generating so many dirty dishes, they shared one fork between them. Across the table, Sean was somehow managing to chew his food with his jaw on the floor.

Later, when they'd succeeded in procuring a large framed map for the wall, they enlisted Hank to help them mark out its placement while they kept it in position. As Erik was taller, he held it up against the wall with his hands supporting the top frame, but the damn thing was heavy, and required Charles to support it along its bottom frame. ("You know you don't have to both stand in the middle," Hank mumbled. "Don't be silly," Charles answered, pressed flush against Erik's back, "then it would be crooked.")

And that was aside from the wrestling, the helpful shoulder massages, the wound care, and the assorted reasons it was necessary to be shirtless with each other now and again.

By the end of the third day Raven was beside herself with the injustice of it all. While they were all arranged in the television room, Erik gestured for Charles to come read the newspaper article that had caught his interest at the table. Rather than offer Charles the paper, he left the paper where it was and sat back. Charles sat on his knee to have a look. "Isn't this--"

"Are you _serious_ ," interrupted Raven, dramatically.

"Raven?" Charles looked up at her quizzically. He glanced back to Erik, who shrugged.

She seemed almost personally offended by the obliviousness on display. For a moment she did appear to court the idea of saying nothing, but she just as soon dumped it. "All right, look," she started, her gaze dropping to her hands, "we are in for some pretty serious stuff coming up. And I think it would be a mistake not to recognize everything we have while we still have it."

Charles softened for her, then. He could almost feel the effort she expended not to look at Hank. Instead, she set her attention squarely on Erik and Charles. Charles lifted his brow.

"So, since you haven't noticed, I'll just tell you, because I can't handle it anymore. You two are hot for each other." There was some flair to her matter-of-factness. "Even Sean agrees and he didn't even know two men could do that."

Charles frowned, catching a glimpse of Sean giving them a thumbs-up from the far table. "Raven, not this, again--"

"Yes," she said firmly. "This again, until you acknowledge it."

Raven was more agitated than Charles had planned for. He and Erik hadn't got very far in the ruse, but perhaps they needed to draw it to a close before Raven gave herself an ulcer--metaphorically, since she couldn't really.

Charles stood up, lifting his palms in a truce of sorts. "All right, Raven," he yielded. "What would convince you one way or another?"

She considered it for only a moment.

"Kiss him."

"I'm sorry?"

"Kiss him. And if you honestly don't feel anything, then we won't bring it up again." She glanced at the others, confirming their agreement before she sat back, her arms folded.

Charles watched her for signs of backing down, but she was decided. Alex and Hank looked passive. Sean was on the edge of his seat.

All right, then.

He turned around, formal and to the point. "Erik?"

Erik stood up obligingly, and Charles realized with a certain warmth in his chest just how Erik deferred to him in front of the others. Or maybe that warmth was from the knowledge that he was about to kiss him in full view of other people.

He cleared his throat to focus. How should they do this?

As though they'd rehearsed it, they stepped up to each other with all the awkwardness and discomfort of a teenage boy made to dance with his cousin Beulah. After a tense hesitation, they bobbed slightly, trying to work out their height difference ahead of time, and they tried at least six different places to rest their hands on each other before Charles sighed and pled for assistance.

"Oh, for Pete's sake," Raven groused, but she got up from her chair to join them. "You stay there," she said to Erik, and with her hand on the small of Charles' back she pushed him toward Erik (though he resisted her dutifully) until their hips met and Charles had to shift his center of balance into him. Charles felt himself flush immediately, but she wasn't done. Taking him by the elbows, she draped his arms up over Erik's shoulders so that Charles had to straighten himself up to accommodate the angle, and before she was finished with him she turned one of his hands so that his first two fingers were in Erik's hair, the second two resting on his neck. Though Charles shifted for comfort, he stayed as she had placed him, and found himself staring at Erik's chin to stay objective. _You're not supposed to like this,_ he reminded himself.

Raven circled them, then arranged Erik one wrist at a time to set his arms low around Charles, one hand on his back, the other behind his hip. She made sure the latter grip was strong, slapping Erik's hand away when it was too limp and demonstrating a talon-like effect that was sure to leave Charles ten good bruises, first from her, then from Erik. As Erik was made to hold him closer, Charles had to shift his foot another inch or two further in against the inside of Erik's boot.

And then they were set, and he was already breathing funny.

Charles heard Raven take her seat again, but aside from that the room was silent in a way no room had been silent since they arrived here. Charles finally looked up to Erik's eyes and pushed away all prior memories of being so close to him. Would he even have had the courage that night, if it hadn't been so rushed, and turbulent? If it had been more like this? He had to wonder.

He tipped his head up reflexively as Erik moved to meet him, and Erik's affected expression of uncertainty reminded Charles to furrow his own brow. His heart was naively pounding as though it too had been fooled, and when he felt Erik's lips on his, their taste all too familiar, he remembered to meet them slowly, curiously, receptively.

He nearly lost all composure when he heard Erik groan. It was so small in his throat Charles doubted anyone but Hank could have heard it, but it seemed to reverberate through Charles like a deep seismic tremor. He was less than cautious now when Erik nudged between his lips with his tongue, and Charles tipped his head to draw it in against his own.

 _Steady_ , he reminded himself, but it was a feeble effort against an improbable force. As Erik teased his mouth, a special talent of his, Charles found himself increasingly unable to pace himself, unable to slow down, and in swift order unable to feign anything short of rampant, unbridled lechery. When Erik began to lean back, lifting Charles from solid footing, Charles' natural and unthinking reaction was to climb his torso, bringing his knees up around Erik's hips where Erik held him fast. Were they alone, Charles would have been on the table by now.

There was no more pretense. No more secret. No more game.

"Take me upstairs," he panted. The words were pressed close to Erik's lips, and Charles felt him smile.

"Aren't we moving a little fast, Professor?"

 _Erik, now._

 _Alack, I am helpless against your mind control._

As Erik moved to carry him out of the room, Charles craned his neck to find Raven. "We've been shagging for weeks," he blurted out. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

He couldn't quite make out what she was mouthing at him as they retreated, but he would have to address her wrath later. By contrast, Sean was giving him another thumbs-up.

And Charles returned it.


End file.
